Requiem
by ameliajokermoriarty
Summary: "Master Bruce." is all Alfred says in response. "How does it always end like this?" Your father asks. "I'm not sure what you mean, Sir." But you can tell that he knows exactly what your father means. "In death. This is how being Batman started. The loss of my parents when I was just a child. It was my way of coping with it. Now being Batman is the reason why my son is dead."


All you could remember was pain. This horrible pain of your muscles ripping and tearing and the feeling of your spine being severed as the blade slipped through your skin and muscles, ripping apart your intestines and cutting through your nerves. You don't even remember screaming, because you probably didn't. You were trained to withstand such pain, but nothing felt worse than that moment of waking up. You raise your head, looking around in a daze and you're home. You're alive. You survived. You push yourself out of your bed and run from the room, looking for those who must be waiting for you. You see the old butler and you try to grasp his attention, but he doesn't seem to see you. You walk slowly, hesitantly towards him and you stand right in front of him, but still he does not see you. He looks upset, disheartened. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as fear consumes you and you bring a hand down to rest on your stomach as your eyes trail down to see it. The fatal wound that ended your life. So easily. You push your fingers inside the wound, but you don't feel the pain. As you pull them back in front of you, there is blood coating them, red as rubies and you realize that while you had lived a life completely surrounded by blood and death, it had never been your blood and you never expected it to be your death.  
"Alfred." A voice rings out from behind you.  
You turn around quickly and see the man that you had begun to call Father. He looks so vulnerable and you cannot believe it as that thought crosses your mind because this is the Batman you are reffering to. The most fearsome creature to ever thrive and grow in Gotham.  
"Master Bruce." is all Alfred says in response.  
"How does it always end like this?" Your father asks.  
"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir." But you can tell that he knows exactly what your father means.  
"In death. This is how being Batman started. The loss of my parents when I was just a child. It was my way of coping with it. Now being Batman is the reason why my son is dead."  
"You can't blame yourself-"  
"I can. It is my fault because I was the one who allowed Damian to become Robin. To risk his life. It's my fault."  
You can't believe what you are hearing. You know that it is not your father's fault. Even if he had not allowed you to become Robin, you would have somehow become him anyway. It was what you were meant to do. You wanted to scream at him, wanted to tell him that he was being an idiot and that you were fine, but you knew that wasn't true. The room changed suddenly and now you saw Dick. Always willing to play the big brother figure. The man had his face buried in his hands and you could swear that you could hear him cry, but you never got the chance to see his face in order to confirm it. You only hear a faint whisper of your name. The room changed again and you saw Jason Todd as Red Hood. A gun in hand and a dead criminal on the floor. He tossed the gun away and you could see his chest heaving as he punched the wall next to him, cracking the brick and causing some of it to fall to the ground. Once more, only a whisper of your name. You see Tim now and you look at him with a glare, though you know he can't see you. This time, you are in the Wayne Family Graveyard and Tim's hand is resting on your tombstone. Titus stands beside him and even he looks sad. Tim has a neutral face, but for some reason, what he says affects you most of all.  
"I'm sorry, Damian. Requiem."  
Then they're all gone. Just like that. Everything you've known and learned to trust with your life. You'll never see them again and you want to scream because it isn't fair. Because you had so much time left. You hear a cough from behind you and you turn to see two figures. A woman and a man. The man vaguely resembles your father and you look at him curiously and he smiles, while the woman holds out her hand. You look at the outstretched hand sketpically and the woman only smiles at you.  
"I don't belong here." You whisper and it sounds almost like a plea as it falls from your lips.  
"We know. We'll just be here for you until it is time for you to go back." The woman says and for some reason, you believe her and take the hand.  
"You're my grandparents aren't you?" You ask.  
"I think you already know the answer to that, Damian." Thomas Wayne responds.  
There was a flash of white light and you feel a wave of relief wash over you and you can't help but to let out a heavy sigh as it feels as though every worry you had ever felt has suddenly vanished, as though it was never there in the first place. This is it. You know it's the end, but you're not afraid anymore. You're going to finally get to rest.  
Requiem.


End file.
